A month had passed since the tournament.

  The endeavor had been a booming success, especially considering the original intent was to stifle a possible looting. People still approached Sarah about the marvelous tournament and her store.

  The second result of the tournament had also been unexpected. The winners of the tournament had taken the jobs she had offered them. Sarah looked at the front of the store where Kevin and Mullet helped the pixies attach strong steel supports to the wall. She had been a little apprehensive at first about hiring the two fighting champions, but she kept her word and made them the promised offer.

  The two men pointed out that nighttime seemed the most important time for them to be present. They suggested that they actually live in the store. This would give them not only a place to stay but also the ability to monitor the store during the most likely times for someone to break in. Sarah had initially been nervous to allow the two men to be unsupervised in the store. Granted, an entire fleet of pixies lived in the store already, but these two men had already proven how tough they could be. If they could defeat trained fighters in an arena, a few pixies could never stop them.

  Sarah researched both men. She made a list of questions, background information she desired, and started searching. She found that the more she searched, the more she liked the two men she had hired. No one she talked with ever spoke poorly of the men. She reluctantly agreed to their request to stay in the shop.

  The store’s popularity blossomed, attracting interested new buyers as well as thieves. Allowing the men to stay in the store proved to be a wise decision. Two weeks after opening a foursome of novices from the Thieves’ Order broke in. The robbery went poorly. Kevin ambushed the four. They were bound and gagged in less than a minute after their silent entry into the store.

  Kevin left them tied together in the center of the store, upside down, dangling from the ceiling. When Sarah groggily walked into the store that morning, she yelped in surprise, which woke Kevin.

  “I figured no need to bother the authorities in the middle of the night,” he explained. Thus, he had left them tied together, so they would learn a lesson.

  “But they are all beat up!” she said, pointing to the black eyes and bruise marks on the men hanging from the ceiling.

  “Well, then I reckon they learned their lesson. Didn’t you, boys?” he said to the dangling mass, while ripping off the gag he had applied to one of their mouths.

  “Yes! Please, mister, please just let us down!” one pleaded.

  Kevin put the gag back over the thief’s mouth.

  “Sure will, as soon as the local officer makes his rounds. He comes down this street quite regularly, usually about noon,” said Kevin. Moans came from the mass. Sarah shook her head.

  “Kevin, that … that can’t be legal,” whispered Sarah.

  “Well, I don’t really know or care. Stealing from here definitely ain’t legal. I just want these boys to know that breaking in here was a really, really bad idea. I’m sure that they can spread the word when they get out of jail. Can’t you, boys?”

  Groans responded.

  “We can’t have this mass hanging here while people come into the store to look at jewelry,” Sarah said.

  “Why not? I know how you like free publicity, since you’ve been raving about how well the tournament turned out,” he said.

  Sarah started to disagree, but then she stopped. Any publicity was good publicity, right?

  “You got a store of pixies making jewelry, run by a young woman. To me that sounds like bait for every thief in the city. Why don’t we make it known that you also got the two toughest brutes in the entire city here too? People will come just to see the contrast,” Kevin said.

  Business continued to boom. A second group of thieves broke into the store. This group had more experience than the first. Mullet was on duty, since it was his turn to sleep downstairs. It took slightly longer to dispatch this group since one actually made it outside. Mullet ran him down and walloped the man on the head, then dragged him back into the store. The group awoke, upside down, the same as the first. This time, however, they had several angry pixies flying around their heads when they woke up.

  Kevin had become friends with all the pixies who could speak human. Kevin had an open, simple, and likable demeanor. He explained to the pixies how thieves would steal all their hard work and give them nothing in exchange. Pixie culture thrived on fair exchange. The thought of taking something without an exchange was a baffling concept. Stealing never even entered their minds as a possibility.

  The thieves thanked the police for taking them to jail. They did not mind the beating they had received; they figured they had earned that for being caught. They just wanted to get away from dozens of angry pixies buzzing in their face and screaming high-pitched ethics lessons.

  The pixies trusted Kevin, but Mullet received nothing but anxious glares. He was used to this. Mullet’s face had layers of scars, and his nose had been broken too many times to count, giving him a gnarled, fearsome look. On top of this, his giant bulk intimidated most large men, so the pixies remained terrified. Mullet seldom spoke; when he did, his voice grated like a mix of thunder and gravel. He moved quickly and quietly. These factors created a high level of nervousness. This lasted until Tali, an impulsive pixie at the best of times, got caught outside the shop with some unruly men.

  Tali had mastered speaking human faster than the other pixies by spending her time with Sarah and Lucy. She had taken it upon herself to keep Mullet in check.

  Late one afternoon Mullet was setting up some new security measures outside the shop. Tali watched him for two hours as he worked. The sun was setting, but the enormous man showed no sign of stopping. Tali had become bored with watching him work, so she taunted him. She just didn’t trust him; he never said anything.

  “You know, those abundant scars do not create the visage of supremacy,” she teased.

  Mullet said nothing.

  “Did you receive them in battle? Doubtful. You probably misaligned your own feet and imprudently toppled on your face,” she said.

  Nothing, no reaction. He did not even stop working.

  Above all Tali hated being ignored. She flew down and hovered right in front of the giant man’s face, sticking out her tongue and flying away. He worked on, hefting another barricade into place.

  She continued to needle him as he worked. He ignored her, working in silence. She pestered, taunted, and insulted the giant man. He never budged as the sun slowly drifted away.

  Though Mullet ignored her, a couple men had heard the tiny pixie’s taunts.

  While Tali mocked Mullet, the two men across the street watched her actions. They had been at the tournament a month ago.

  “Issat little fairy givin’ you trouble, Mullets?” one said.

  “No,” he answered and continued his work.

  “Oh, amazing, it communicates!” said Tali. “I thought you lacked sufficient competence to entwine two words together. Though, on second thought, that utterance remained a single word, so maybe you still lack the intelligence for multiworded sentences,” she said, laughing loudly at her own joke.

  “Hey! You leave him alone, little fairy, if you know what’s good for you,” said the second.

  “First of all, I’m a pixie, not a fairy. The barbarian is fine. Just because he appears to shave with a misaligned pitchfork does not mean he lacks the ability to reciprocate. You don’t require these inebriates’ assistance, do you, dunderhead?” she said.

  “No,” he answered.

  “You should stop calling him names, you dumb, stupid fairy! He’s a hero. He’s saved more lives than you’ve got in your whole … wait. He’s done more than you ever did,” said one man. The other nodded in agreement.

  “I am certain you are attempting to communicate, however rudimentarily,” said Tali. “Did you two just leave the Wizards’ Order after a long night of diligent studying? Why not just ambulate along and leave us. This troll must complete his engagements before disappearing beneath his bridge. Sorry, that was quite egregious, insulting trolls like that. Some are tolerable, and most are more attractive.”

  “You shut up! Shut up!” yelled one, staggering across the street. The other joined him, not wanting to miss the chance to yell incoherently. The second of the two men reached into his pocket and pulled out something while crossing the street.

  Tali zipped to the sign high atop the shop’s storefront, out of their reach.

  “You needs to appolifis … appologish … say you’re sorry, dumb fairy,” said the first.

  “I. Am. Not. A. Fairy,” said Tali.

  “Yah,” said the second, “a fairy’s smarter. What’re you? Some kind of poop-beetle that talks?” said the second.

  Tali zoomed right in front of the face of the first one. “Let me tell you some—” She didn’t finish.

  The second man swooshed a net over her. He clenched his fist around the top of the fine mesh. She was trapped.

  “Let me out! Let me out, oh, please! Please, please, please let me out!” she screamed. Her tone had instantly changed to a helpless plea. Her voice had heart-wrenching desperation in every word. The complete misery and agony in the pixie’s voice halted the two men for a moment, but their stupidity returned quickly.

  A dark voice rumbled nearby. “Let her go.” Each word was slow and deliberate.

  Tali stopped her wailing for an instant to see Mullet putting down the large grating. She stared, desperate for anyone to free her.

  The two men showed no sign of granting her wish. One reached a dirty hand into the net and roughly grabbed Tali by her wings, pinning them together. She screamed in pain, as he pulled her from the net, ignoring her miserable wailing.

  “Not so tough now, dumb fairy,” he said, violently shaking the tiny creature by the wings. He reeked of stale ale and body odor.

  Tali wailed in pain as he shook her some more.

  Mullet’s dark rumble from fifty feet away came again. “Let her go. Now.”

  “How good d’you fly without wings, stupid—” was all the man got out before he collapsed around Mullet’s fist. Though Mullet had hit the man in the stomach, he actually went up in the air before coming back down. Mullet caught the pixie midair before she fell.

  The other man looked at Mullet, then down at his buddy gasping for air, then back at Mullet. He shrugged; his brain had fired off enough warning signals to realize this was a battle to stagger away from. He disappeared into the night.

  Tali tried to fly and screamed in pain.

  Mullet carefully held her in one giant hand. She cried uncontrollably.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Tali looked around for the first time since falling. She saw one man staggering away. She saw the other collapsed in a heap on the ground. She had been saved; she continued to cry in pain, but relief flooded through her. Mullet looked down at the small creature, waiting for her to regain composure.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  She continued to sniff but got out a small “Thank you.” She buzzed her wings and screamed out in pain again.

  “Take me inside, please?” she pleaded. Mullet carried the pixie as if she were made of eggshells and walked to the front door, translucent fluid leaking from her wings.

  Seconds after entering, pandemonium broke out. Several of the pixies accused Mullet, but Tali quickly relayed the story between sobs. Jenny, the head of the troop, blew a few notes on her magical flute. A male pixie with blond hair flowing to his knees quickly flew over. They chatted rapidly in Pixish, and he nodded.

  He flew onto Mullet’s hand and then pointed at the table. Mullet gently lay her on the table. Tali continued crying in pain. Jenny and Tali buzzed Pixish as the long-haired pixie touched her wings a few times. Each time he did, she let out a high-pitched scream. The normally gossamer wings oozed clear green fluid. The blond pixie chattered to Jenny, pointing to Tali’s wings. He flew away, only to return moments later with a clear fluid that he poured on Tali’s wings.

  Jenny flew over to Mullet.

  “She needs a doctor, one who knows pixies. She’s injured beyond our abilities. Her wings are broken and not circulating gliae. I doubt you fully comprehend the intricacies of pixie life for her if she were to lose her wings,” Jenny said.

  “Like chopping off my arms,” said Mullet.

  Jenny raised her eyebrows in surprise. It was the longest sentence she had ever heard Mullet speak, and it showed his insight.

  “Precisely,” Jenny said. “Now the difficult task arises. It is after sundown, and we need a doctor who is not only open right now but also can handle severe pixie injuries,” said Jenny. She blew into her flute again, and the room filled with pixies in seconds. Jenny made a quick speech in Pixish, followed by a long pause. No one spoke. “That’s what I was afraid of,” Jenny said to Mullet. “Not one of us knows where a physician is in this city, much less one who could handle pixies. I am so sorry, Tali.”

  Tali had been whimpering in pain before but now howled uncontrollably. “Nooo!” she said over and over. “My wings! Jenny, my …” The rest was lost in her crying.

  “I’ll find one,” said Mullet. Jenny looked at the giant with a raised eyebrow.

  “Anything! Any chance, any chance at all, please!” said Tali. She limped over to the edge of the table and looked up at Mullet. “Please,” she said.

  He lowered his hand, and she stepped on. They disappeared out the door.

  The closest mud run was five blocks away. Mullet cupped his hands over the pixie to keep her safe and sprinted. Giant bounding strides took him to the mud run in no time. He used his free hand to slam the blocker into place. A mudman appeared.

  “Was’sup, dude? Oh, and dudette. How can I, like, help you on this fine evening?” he, or it, said.

  “Doctor,” said Mullet.

  “You want someone in particular or just someone for plastic surgery, since your face could use, like, some major touch-up work, if you know what ah mean, brah?”

  “Dr. Cameron,” said Mullet. He had spoken with Kevin after the tournament. They had discussed their win at length, and Kevin had mentioned meeting not only Marie and Marl but also the doctor who had been with them—how the doctor not only pulled out a spike from a rock troll but had also fixed him enough to make it to the finals. Mullet figured a doctor who knew troll anatomy had a good chance of knowing about pixies.

  “No problem, muchacho. I know right where the good Dr. Sangre lives, but, ah, do you have the payment?” asked the mudman.

  Mullet threw a silver at the mudman. It hit him in the chest and slowly soaked its way into him.

  “You know we don’t ever carry change, right, amigo?” said the mudman.

  Mullet glared at the creature.

  “Righto, the good doctor is this way,” it said. It pulled up the blocker and proceeded to ooze quickly down the trough. Mullet kept up with the creature’s rapid sloshing.

  Mullet ran continuously for fifteen minutes. The mudman looked back and seemed surprised that the big man never fell behind.

  “Wow, dude. You’re in some killer shape, brah. This is the shop right here, and, judging by the lights still on, I think you are in luck. Hasta la bye-bye, little dudette. Hope everything turns out okay,” said the mudman to the pixie, disappearing into the trough.

  Tali laughed weakly at the muddy creature as it disappeared. “Quite helpful, though I suppose most would be for a silver,” she whispered.

  Mullet said nothing. He pushed open the front door and encountered a roomful of activity. People moved from bed to bed, asking questions. He could see patients with tubes connected to their arms. He walked up to the front desk and rang a bell.

  Mullet rarely experienced surprise. However, when the war sage appeared, dressed in a white nurse’s outfit, he did a double take.

  Marie looked at the giant man for a second and then dropped into a defensive posture. She crossed her forearms and bowed to Mullet.

  “Greetings, paladin. May I help you?” she said.

  “Help,” he said and gently lay the tiny pixie on the counter.

  Marie took one look at the pixie, then grabbed clean white towels, and gently picked her up and rushed into the clinic. Mullet followed.

  “Dr. Sangre, you’re needed in Room One now, please!” she said loudly.

  Cameron appeared in seconds. He looked down with a frown at the pixie laying on the large gurney.

  “What happened?” he asked, kneeling next to the pixie.

  “Two men. I was stupid and did not watch my back. One caught me and crushed my wings,” said Tali.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” asked Cameron.

  “I do not think so,” she said.

  “Do you have any other medical conditions?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “No breathing problems, bleeding disorders, heart problems?” he asked.

  “No, no, no.”

  “No hyperactive magical release, no pixie paralysis, no enchanted devices?”

  “No, no, and no.”

  “Not taking any medicine, herbs, potions, or drugs?”

  “No, but the pixie troop doctor put temporary gliae on my wings.”

  “Good. Any allergies to medicine? Last time you ate or drank?”

  “No allergies. Lunch, about six hours ago,” she said.

  Cameron continued questioning the pixie; Marie used a small pair of scissors to carefully cut off her clothes and replaced them with a miniature paper gown. She explained that she did not want to risk any more damage to her wings by pulling them through the back slits in her clothes. Tali agreed.

  Cameron then went to a drawer and pulled out a stethoscope; it had normal attachments for his ears, but the diaphragm end of the instrument came to a very tiny point, where he put it on her chest in different places.

  “You sound fine, but your wings look terrible,” he said.

  “Are they broken?” she said.

  “Yes. I need to set them and get your gliae flowing through your wings again.”

  “But, but I heard that, when you do that, pixies can die just from the pain!” she said.

  “That’s rare. Don’t worry. I will put you to sleep before I set the wings,” said Cameron.

  Tali looked terrified. She stared up at Mullet for support. He nodded solemnly at her, as if to say, “What other choice do you have?”

  “Doctor, I don’t know if you truly comprehend. Pixies can die if they are overloaded with pain, and wing pain is the most severe,” said Tali.

  “I know,” he said without hesitation. “You need to trust me. I’ll give you a sleeping medicine. You won’t feel a thing. It will make you feel a little funny, but then you will drift off. When you wake up, your wings will be all better.”

  Tali nodded.

  Marie brought over a small scale. She carefully lifted Tali and recorded her weight.

  “Marie, could you get 0.015 cc of Ketafol please, standard ratio mixture. Thanks,” he said. Marie disappeared and came back with a very small syringe with a hair-thin needle as Cameron placed Tali on the center of the padded gurney once more.

  “This is the medicine to put you to sleep. I know that we are really rushing you through all this, but time is a very important factor here. Your wings are leaking gliae badly. The longer we take, the worse the chances for your wings to recover,” Marie said.

  Mullet stepped between Cameron and Tali. “Can you really do this?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Cameron.

  Mullet looked into Cameron’s eyes. He continued to stare into Cameron’s eyes for an awkwardly long time. Cameron already had his surgical mask on. Despite the awkward glare from the behemoth, Cameron did not look away. A slight glint came from Mullet’s eyes and then faded.

  “Satisfied?” Cameron said to Mullet.

  “Okay,” said Mullet, stepping aside.

  Marie eyed Cameron for a second, then continued to care for Tali. She cleaned a small area of her tiny thigh with a cotton ball moistened with a strong-smelling liquid. She then inserted the hair-thin needle and injected a nearly imperceptible amount of the fluid. Tali continued to lay on her side, but slowly she drifted to sleep. Marie held a tube connected to the wall above the pixie’s face.

  Cameron opened one of several vials he had prepared. He took some salve and liberally covered all four wings with it. He then gently pulled one wing with forceps until it was taut. It made a light clicking noise. He smoothed the wing over and over. He repeated the process with each of the other three wings. When all four wings had been straightened, Marie assisted him putting on his face a comically large pair of glasses. The glasses had many sets of lenses, one directly in front of the next. Each lens was slightly smaller than the one behind it. He started with just the large lenses, then put down the next smaller, then the next smaller, and so forth, until he had five lenses stacked in front of each other in a series of concentric circles. While Cameron adjusted his glasses, Marie went around the room lighting candles and focused the candlelight with mirrors, so that the tiny creature practically glowed from the illumination.

  Cameron then took out a smaller set of tiny forceps and ever-so-slightly lifted the wings. With one hand he made minute adjustments to the wing; with the other he held a tiny stick which he dipped into a sticky gel. He used a small metal toothpick to apply minuscule dollops of the glue to the wings in different spots. As he worked, he spoke to Mullet, explaining what he was doing.

  “When a pixie’s wing is broken, it is different than a broken bone. Pixies have a blood supply, like we have, but, for their wings, they have gliae. Gliae is similar to blood in that it nourishes the wing, but the substance has nearly no weight to it. Gliae has high amounts of pixie magic in it, which allows them to fly as quickly as they do. However, if the wing goes too long without a supply of gliae, the wing dies.”

  Mullet grunted. He clenched his fists a few times, thinking about the men who had done this. Cameron continued.

  “That’s the reason we put on the gliae substitute first. We did it right away since that acts as a short-term gliae for the wings. The wings must be perfectly aligned to keep the channels flowing. What I’m doing now is gluing each wing precisely in place. It’s tedious work, but, for pixies, if they lose their wings …”

  “It’s like cutting off our arms,” Mullet finished.

  “Well, yes and no. For pixies, flight is part of their identity. They not only use wings to fly but also to communicate and to do magic. Losing their wings is like losing their identity.”

  Cameron applied invisible amounts of the glue to each wing. After all four wings were finished, he allowed the glue to dry, which only took a few minutes. He flexed and extended the wings gently, looking closely for any leaking gliae.

  “Looks good, Cam,” said Marie.

  “It’s her wings, Marie. I really should …” he began.

  “Cam, you can’t do it for every patient. You’ll wear yourself out, and you won’t have any reserve left for when you really need it,” she said.

  “We’re not having this tired old argument again, Marie,” he said. “Besides, I’m only checking my work. I’m not changing anything, unless I need to.”

  Cameron carefully lifted the sleeping pixie in his cupped hands. His breathing slowed, and the room darkened despite the lighting. A faint blue glow appeared around his hands. Slowly Tali’s wings moved up and down. One speck of blue light came from the wings, then another, then another. The wings sparkled with blue light for an instant and then slowly faded away.

  Cameron opened his eyes and smiled. “She’ll be fine.”

  Marie muttered under her breath something about not even using the glue in the first place if he was going to do what he just did.

  Mullet quietly watched the pixie on the cot. The small creature breathed regularly and evenly while sleeping off the anesthetic. Marie monitored Tali until she regained consciousness. The doctor had already disappeared to another room.

  After ten minutes Tali stirred. Marie removed the small tube she had been holding near the pixie’s face. Tali groaned and opened her eyes. She leaned forward, but Marie gently pushed her back with an index finger.

  “Not so fast there,” Marie said. “You need to rest. Not only that, you have to take it easy for a few days. That means no flying.”

  “What? You can’t stop me from flying,” she said.

  “No, I can’t. But your wings need time to heal. After three days, the glue should be gone, and you can fly—but only short distances. Not too fast either. Also do not do any magic. That will put too much stress on your wings.”

  Marie looked at Mullet. “Are you staying with her for the next few days? Pixies don’t usually take instruction too well. Will you help her to not fly for a few days?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Mullet.

  “Good. I want you to stay here for another half hour while the rest of the anesthetic wears off. The doctor will see you again and get you on your way,” said Marie.

  Marie left the room and caught up with Cameron.

  “So what was the deal with the staring contest between you and the paladin behemoth back there?” Marie asked.

  “He is actually quite a skilled diviner. He wanted to be certain that I really could do everything I said. He was just looking out for her, making sure I wasn’t about to hurt her,” he said.

  “He got all that from staring in your eyes?” Marie asked.

  “Like I said, he is quite good,” Cameron answered.

  “He didn’t get anything else too important, did he?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so. I’m pretty good at keeping hidden what I don’t want found,” Cameron said.

  A half hour later Cameron checked on the tiny pixie, who tried flexing her wings quite carefully but did so with only a slight groan of discomfort.

  An hour later Mullet walked back home. It was midnight, but no one approached Mullet’s bulk in the blackness of the night. He had both hands cupped around the pixie.

  The normally talkative pixie still had the effects of the medicine in her. She fell asleep halfway to the Picky Pixie.

  Mullet knocked on the door to the shop. The shop had been locked up, and, in his haste, he had not remembered his keys. Kevin let him in. Shortly after their arrival, the entire troop had assembled. Mullet gently lay her on a towel. She continued to sleep.

  “Well?” Jenny, the troop leader, asked.

  “She’ll be fine,” Mullet said. “No flying for three days. Doc wanted me to watch her till then,” he said to the hundreds of pixies watching from around the shop.

  A flurry of pixies immediately disagreed. Others surmised that Mullet probably crushed her wings himself. Yet others looked at Tali’s healed wings with a sense of awe. Jenny pulled out her flute and blew a shrill note. The pixies instantly became silent, and Tali woke up. Jenny looked down at her.

  “He states your wings should be adequate and that flight is forbidden for three days. He also explained it was his duty to observe you during this time. What do you say to this, Tali?” Jenny asked.

  Tali grinned. “He saved my life. I’ll do anything he says.”

  “Yes. The doctor did some amazing work indeed. I truly thought your wings were beyond repair. However, what say you in regard to …” Jenny said, but quieted to Tali’s shaking head.

  “No. Mullet, Mullet saved my life. I will do anything Mullet tells me to do. If he says I am not to fly for three days or for three years, I will do as he says,” she said. The rest of the pixies looked at Mullet, shocked.

  “So be it. Mullet, you have not only Tali’s gratitude but the gratitude of the troop as well. Are you willing to act as her guardian till she has recuperated?” Jenny asked.

  The giant man nodded.

  “Done. Now the rest of you get back to your bunks. We have another busy day tomorrow,” Jenny said. The pixies zipped off in different directions, leaving only Jenny, Kevin, Mullet, and Tali. “Thank you, Mullet. You will have the troop’s complete support. I just wish it did not take such an act of heroism to convince my troop of your valor.”

  He said nothing and carried Tali upstairs. After preparing a large mound of soft linens for the tiny pixie, and gently laying the miniscule sleeping creature on top, he collapsed onto his bed.